Truth

In its shadows beyond the door of secrecy
there lies a world many refuse to explore
having only seen the appearance
of its contents as the probing implements of terror,
devices full of potent ways to summoning pain,
passersby cringing when the barrier is open.

It always means death will come when they are flashed,
the villagers always hiding in their houses,
afraid to venture outside
where the one within that foreboding darkness
begins his stroll upon a holy crusade.

Inquisitor always following the voices
coming during hours of prayer,
to listen for names of wicked
who must be purged from the population.

Today it is open in celebration,
broom displayed as the trophy
of his last victory of good over evil.
woman declared a witch,
arrested while working as maid,
her cleaning instrument
deemed the pearl of her incantations.

Now it is left for all to see
as if burning her at the stake wasn't enough,
in silence the denizens endure
constant scrutiny from his righteous eyes
gazing outward from his mysterious sanctuary.

Citizens meandering through the dirt streets
attempting to find normalcy,
trying to forget the condemned's screams.
during aftermath of fiery punishment.

No one daring to visit this man's chamber
or ever peek inside the bible that he carries as a shield,
where he keeps the recipes of black magic,
being a faithful servant to supernatural powers,
slaying real saints best way to disguise his true nature.